Russell had left that entire group behind.
On the mini-map, Tsukishiro Yanagi’s icon was moving southeast at a speed of four meters per second, roughly one hundred and eighty meters away from him.
Without hesitation, he followed along the rusted material conveyor pipe.
The Hollow’s internal topological structure was accelerating its distortion—a chain reaction caused by changes in Ether density.
In theory, such phenomena only appeared in Hollows where Ethereals of level four or five and above existed.
Originally straight passages were being folded into sharp angles under the erosion of Ether turbulence.
At the riveted seams of the walls, faint purple light seeped out like a net slowly tightening.
Even the ground beneath Russell’s sneakers felt strangely viscous as he stepped forward.
…Hope my Ether Aptitude can hold up.
He thought this to himself while pressing forward.
Finally, he caught up with Tsukishiro Yanagi beneath a broken overpass.
Yanagi stood on a slanted steel beam on one foot, her naginata held horizontally at her side as her sharp gaze scanned the shadows ahead.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she abruptly turned around.
Her violet-red pupils contracted for an instant in the darkness.
Her right hand instinctively moved toward the left side of her waist guard, but upon realizing the meaning of that motion, she quickly lowered it again, her fingers tightening around the tsuba of her blade.
However, after seeing Russell’s familiar fox mask, she relaxed.
Then she suddenly felt a bit awkward.
She had fled in such an embarrassing state earlier, and now that he had followed her, she didn’t even know what to say.
So she could only press her lips together and stare at him silently.
Russell, in truth, didn’t catch the meaning behind her gaze.
The reason was simple—he wasn’t thinking about the handkerchief at all… After all, in his understanding, she couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking.
So he greeted her very seriously.
“Vice Section Chief Tsukishiro, why did you leave on your own?”
Yanagi, hearing his tone as if nothing had happened, secretly relaxed.
At least she wouldn’t have to feel awkward anymore.
However, another thought immediately followed—why was he acting so naturally?
Or was it actually me who misunderstood?
Of course, she didn’t dare ask that aloud, but she did start thinking about taking the handkerchief back.
However, this was clearly not the time for that.
“I’m going to rescue my team members.
But why are you out here?
What about the investigators?” This story is hosted at g.com.
“I left them tools, and gave them the route and coordinates.
I told them to dig the tunnel,” Russell interrupted.
His breathing was slightly uneven from running, but his tone remained calm.
“We’re all on the same rope now.
We can’t be fighting for our lives while they just watch.”
Yanagi opened her mouth, originally wanting to say she was used to working alone, but then realized he wasn’t part of her system.
There was no need for him to follow the same division of roles.
“More importantly,” Russell continued, “you still haven’t told me the exact location of your mission target in the factory.
If you don’t make it back, wouldn’t my commission just fail?”
“…Sorry.
I forgot,” Yanagi admitted.
Seeing such a composed beauty lowering her head to apologize so directly, Russell found it difficult to press further, so he softened his tone.
“And you just rushed out like that—do you even know where Asaba Harumasa is?”
“Uh…”
Her intent was so reasonable that Yanagi was momentarily speechless.
She truly didn’t know the exact coordinates.
The enemies pursuing her had likely taken a detour, while those chasing Harumasa had probably gone straight.
She had only been searching in the general direction he had broken through.
Still, she stated her judgment.
“…He should be in the southeast old warehouse district.
Of course, conditions inside the Hollow are chaotic now, so the direction may have shifted.”
Russell shook his head slightly.
He glanced at the mini-map.
“He’s not in the warehouse district.
He’s farther east, on a steel tower—and… things don’t look good.”
Asaba Harumasa’s marker on the map was already surrounded by a ring of red units.
Yanagi’s pupils contracted sharply.
·
The General had pinned all three Typhon Destroyers beneath the steel tower.
Originally, he had intended to deploy the reinforcements outside, but they were informed that the perimeter was already being guarded.
Meanwhile, the two units that had chased Tsukishiro Yanagi—along with their supporting squads—had pushed too deep and lost contact.
So the reinforcements were redirected here as well.
The Typhon mechs were heavily armored.
With three of them forming an encirclement and supported by the Jaeger squads, whether or not they could handle Yanagi was uncertain—but this man was definitely not escaping.
The old transmission tower stood over forty meters tall, its steel frame forming an open triangular lattice covered in heavy rust and black scorch marks.
Asaba Harumasa was curled up on a mid-level crossbeam.
His left sleeve was soaked in blood, the dark red liquid dripping down the steel beam and pooling thirty meters below into a dark stain.
He held a specialized composite bow that could also transform into a blade, but two of its bowstrings had already snapped.
As a “close-combat archer,” his fighting style relied on high-speed mobility and close-range strikes.
Thrusts and slashes were his strengths—but unfortunately, that style was poorly suited against tank-like Typhon mechs.
Now, under the electric arc blockade of three Typhon Destroyers and the crossfire of a thirty-man Jaeger squad, any attempt to break out was suicide.
“Haah…”
Harumasa glanced at the encirclement below and exhaled a breath tinged with the taste of rust and blood.
A cold glint passed through his eyes.
After shooting down several drones earlier, the enemy had clearly become cautious, keeping the Typhons at the front while using drones as aerial scouts.
He had already shot down multiple drones, but it was obvious they still had hidden surveillance cameras among the rubble on the ground.
At that moment, the sound of a Typhon charging its electromagnetic strike echoed from below.
A sound he was already very familiar with.
He immediately leapt from the tower to another beam.
However, a high-voltage arc still crawled up the steel structure, burning the beam he had just stood on until it glowed red.
If he hadn’t been an Ether user with lightning affinity, able to momentarily counter electricity with electricity to form a crude “Faraday cage,” he would have been blasted down long ago.
But that now-red-hot beam was no longer usable.
Even if his shoes could briefly stand on it, the contact points would melt.
Harumasa was forced to climb upward.
When his fingers gripped the rusted angle iron, a searing pain shot through his palm—the sensation of rust cutting into skin.
“Vice Section Chief, when we get back, you owe me a week—no, a month of vacation!”
★ ★ ★
Shilling time!